


Voyeurism

by InsanelyYours96



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Empathetic Harry is getting rather annoyed with his empathy, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry's first meeting with his horcrux, Harry's soft on kids, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Possessive Voldemort, Unintentional Voyeurism, Voldemort being Voldemort, and not the sexy kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanelyYours96/pseuds/InsanelyYours96
Summary: Lord Voldemort was minding his own business. It was Harry who pulled him into his mind by interacting with the horcrux.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 22
Kudos: 400





	Voyeurism

“It can’t be too exciting, being trapped in somebody else’s head.”

The words echoed into Voldemort’s mind as sleep claimed him. The ease with which he flowed into Harry always took him by surprise. It was effortless, like the boundary between them was nothing more than smoke. 

He landed in a long corridor, stones shifting restlessly beneath his bare feet. The mind around him was a contradiction, constantly shifting yet oddly tranquil. Voldemort smiled without feeling—such an odd boy, Harry Potter—and began to move forward. He stilled at the sight awaiting him, lips parting in surprise.

Harry was sitting on a plush armchair, only he wasn’t alone. He had a lapful of a young, grey-eyed Tom Riddle.

The boy couldn’t have been older than six and sat as primly as one could when on the lap of another, back straight and short legs crossed. He seemed content with the abnormal seating arrangement, still and calm even when Harry dared run a hand through night dark curls. It was an affectionate gesture, and not one Voldemort had ever experienced himself.

“I suppose you are acceptable,” Tom dismissed curtly. “You aren’t a boring vessel, at the very least.” 

_Vessel…_ it couldn’t be.

But what else explained it? Everything was just starting to make sense. Their mental connection, how Harry could speak parseltongue, why he had been pulled from the cusp of sleep to _this_. 

Harry snorted. “I suppose not, no,” he muttered.

There was a moment of quiet, as Voldemort assimilated the knowledge and Harry continued to _pet_ the horcrux. This changed _everything._ Voldemort needed to get to the boy—to protect him—to discover just how much he knew. He mustn’t realize who he held at this moment; the boy’s hands were far too gentle for that. 

“How much have you seen?” Harry asked finally, clearly reluctant to broach the topic. 

Tom turned to meet green eyes, lips pulled down. “Enough,” he said.

‘Answer him,’ thought Voldemort, ‘Draw out all of his secrets. Lay him bare before us.’

“You know what I’m asking, Tom,” Harry snapped suddenly, letting his hands drop from mussed hair. “Just—the Dursley’s, did you—”

“Oh yes,” Tom said softly, small hand finding Harry’s own and gripping it tightly. Voldemort wondered at how it must feel; he had only touched Harry once. It had filled the boy with a pain strong enough to echo back through their bond, not that Voldemort had realized what caused the sensation at the time. “More than enough of that.” 

Something in Harry’s expression seemed to crumple, his shoulders slumping where before they held strong, and quick as a whip a small hand slapped him across the face. Voldemort’s lips twisted into a snarl— _only he was allowed to_ —but it was him, in a way.

“You let them affect you too much,” the horcrux snapped, unapologetic in the face of Harry’s wide green eyes. Voldemort wondered if the boy would cry. They would sparkle so prettily, then. “Don’t be pathetic. They were only muggles.” 

For a moment Voldemort is sure Harry will push the horcrux from his lap, but then broad shoulders relax and he snorts. “Well, it’s not like I expected sympathy from you. I’m sure you enjoyed what they did to me.” 

No tears, then. Mildly disappointing, but Voldemort wouldn’t wish for a weak vessel.

“Hardly,” the horcrux states plainly. “I had to experience it through you, after all.”

Harry's eyes widened again, and as his shock and dismay pressed into Voldemort’s mind long fingers tightened and loosened on the horcruxes small shoulders. Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. What had _muggles_ been allowed to do to Harry?

“You—” Harry seemed at a loss. “Everything that happened to me?”

“I was fortunate enough to feel every bit of it.”

Well that _was_ unfortunate. Putting his own soul under the _Cruciatus_ would only have made it furious at him. But then, it must know that Voldemort was unaware. Surely it would still be agreeable to twisting Harry’s allegiances.

“You probably deserve that, after everything,” Harry said, but it was weak to Voldemort’s ears. 

The horcrux seemed to agree. It smiled, straight white teeth gleaming in the dim light. “Do I?”

“Yes,” Harry said shortly, lips pressed tight. “No need to be pathetic about it. They’re ‘just muggles’.”

Tom laughed. “You’re a pitiful liar, Harry Potter.” But then, everybody was a pitiful liar before Lord Voldemort.

“Not hardly,” Harry sneered. The expression slowly fell, however, as he stared at the young horcrux straddling his lap. “Is looking like a child meant to help you manipulate me?” he asked. A wise question—one Voldemort had been curious about himself. 

Tom tilted his head to the side, and then a small smirk turned up his mouth. It looked odd on his cherubic features, but then his face began to shift—his limbs lengthened—his hair ebbed from curls to waves. “Would you prefer me in your lap like this?” The horcrux, a young man now, purred, his thumb stroking down Harry’s cheek.

Harry flushed, hands shifting to grip at Tom’s hips even as he leaned back. ‘Making sure the horcrux wouldn’t fall,’ Voldemort mused, ‘wouldn’t _leave_ even as he protested.’ 

“I— _no!_ ”

The horcrux hummed in disbelief, long fingers lacing through Harry’s hair. “ _Everything_ you experienced, Harry. Including some rather interesting dreams.”

Voldemort felt a jolt of interest, but it was fleeting at best. Many had found him attractive in his youth—Harry was hardly an outlier in that—though the idea that he had entertained fantasies of Tom Riddle, _knowing_ that he was Lord Voldemort as a boy, was strangely alluring. 

“Well isn’t that mortifying,” Harry murmured, but didn’t back down, green eyes matching the horcruxes intent gaze. So defiant, this boy. “But I’ve also dreamt about Bill, Malfoy and Wood—yet I don't particularly want any of them in my lap, either.”

The horcruxes' eyes flashed red. Voldemort calmly noted the names of potential targets. Malfoy would be the easiest to reach. And here he had thought them enemies—but maybe that was Harry’s _type_. 

“There’s no comparison.”

Harry smirked, quick and sly. The devious expression suited his face perfectly. “Yes, I’m sure they would find being compared to you equally distasteful.” 

“You are _my_ vessel,” Tom breathed, leaning closer. Just as possessive as Voldemort, though that was hardly a surprise. “Shall I prove that you are mine in all ways, Harry?”

Voldemort’s lips pressed together. He would not only _watch_ as—

Green eyes flashed, and at last the horcrux ended up sprawled on the ground. “I _belong_ to no one,” Harry sneered. “Don't play with me, Riddle.”

On the contrary, he belonged to Lord Voldemort, but he hardly minded the fire. Harry, meek and compliant, had never been an attractive thought. Not that the current Harry was attractive—nothing was charming about the way he looked, eyes blazing, as he stood over Voldemort’s horcrux. Nothing was charming about his mess of hair and the set of his jawline. Nothing, nothing at all. 

“But you look so lovely in your rage,” said Tom, a direct (and annoyingly accurate) contradiction to Voldemort’s current thoughts. And _oh_ but that was true. The Boy-Who-Lived had grown very fetching, indeed. It was only suiting: Voldemort chose the very best objects to house his horcruxes, unintentional or not.

Harry rolled his eyes, turning. Green eyes caught on red almost immediately, and widened in surprise. Then came the horror, a cresting wave of glorious emotion that Lord Voldemort savored like the finest of wines. 

“No,” Harry gasped. “ _No!_ You can’t know, you can’t—I won’t be locked away somewhere. I can’t live like that anymore.”

‘Anymore,’ Voldemort noted. ‘Anymore.’ The word rang through his mind. ‘Muggles. Of course.’

It seemed he had reason to go hunting again. He rarely wasted time targeting anything so much _lesser_ , but Lord Voldemort could spare a few hours to make a few muggles wish they never heard the name Harry Potter.

The horcrux found its feet quickly, long arms wrapping around Harry from behind as it stared Lord Voldemort down rather blackly. ‘I am you,’ thinks Voldemort. ‘You will _bow._ ’

It doesn't. Ornery thing.

“Calm down,” Tom whispered into the boy's ear. “ _Control it_.”

The rush of turbulent wind in Harry’s mind relented. The boy took a breath. ‘He follows direction so _well_ ,’ Voldemort noted hungrily. 

“Just because you know doesn’t mean you can get to me,” Harry said. “And if we don't come to some sort of agreement, you'll never see me again.”

Brave, silly boy. _Nothing_ would stop Lord Voldemort from finding what was his.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Are you merely defiant, or deviant as well, Harry?' (Thoughts not included that definitely got thought.)
> 
> Look guys, look! I recently found and polished this precious. Anything that includes Harry interacting with horcruxes is a must, must, must! Despite posting two new stories today, I am working on the others. I've even got the end bit of my epic rhyming au done. The middle is not treating me so nicely.
> 
> As always, I use a truly _alarming_ amount of italics and abuse that em-dash! 
> 
> This'll never be continued, so enjoy the stand alone and no requests for more.
> 
> If you have a moment, leave a comment on your way out. :)
> 
> Happy Shipping!


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